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Supercard Roleplays / Re: MERCEDES VARGAS (c) v BELLA MADISON v LILITH LOCKE - INTERNET TITLE - ULTIMATE X
« Last post by BellaMadison on July 12, 2025, 08:41:56 PM »~*~Burn that Bitch in Effigy~*~
Backstage during the last Climax Control
Backstage during the last Climax Control
The Colorado night was clear, if a little humid, for the particular time, but at least the stars were sharp against the summer night as the velvet sky darkened even more above Suplizio Field. The roaring of field noise faded in the distance as the show still took place, replaced out here by the low, grating squeak of dolly wheels rolling across concrete.
Bella Madison stood just outside the loading bay doors, her arms crossed over her chest, hair pulled back with the strands that fell from the loose bun that she had tied in. She watched as the SCW ringside crew wheeled away what remained of Mercedes Vargas’ effigy, a melted mannequin placed in a now charred director style chair, scorched beyond recognition, bits of singed synthetic hair clinging to its blackened skull. A stuffed plush leech dangled from one twisted plastic shoulder, bobbing with every jostle of the dolly.
It smelled faintly of burnt plastic and cheap perfume. Bella inhaled deeply anyway, satisfied.
She didn’t look away until the dolly hit a seam in the pavement and jostled the effigy sideways, one limp arm flopping toward the ground like it was trying to wave goodbye.
For a moment, she let herself enjoy the satisfaction, the primal, cleansing thrill of it. Watching that stand-in for Mercedes Vargas, and for everything she represented, reduced to ashes had been almost therapeutic.
Almost.
She drew in a long breath and released it slowly, tasting the acrid tang of burnt polyester on the back of her tongue. She didn’t even turn when footsteps approached behind her, the tread familiar as her own heartbeat.
“[/color]Well...” Malachi’s voice was warm, low, threaded with an amused edge, "Are we feeling better about things now?”
Bella tilted her head as she kept her eyes on the effigy, her lips twitching into a half-smirk, "Meh? I mean, it was fun,” She finally glanced over at him, her sky blue eyes glinting under the parking lot lights. A breeze lifted a few stray strands of her hair, carrying away the last curls of smoke, "But no,” she added, "I’m not satisfied, not yet at least.”
Malachi leaned one shoulder against a concrete pillar, crossing his arms as he studied her. His dark hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, the hair that had gotten crazy long even for him, considering he used to keep it short and tight for years, even when they got married, "Not even after roasting Vargas and her... parasite? By the way, we all got a good chuckle out of that,” he asked, jerking his bearded chin toward the now-distant mannequin, which was being unceremoniously loaded into a dumpster.
Bella exhaled, a dry little laugh escaping her, "Setting that plastic bitch on fire felt amazing. But I won’t be satisfied until Mercedes is gone back to her hole and I’m holding my Internet Championship again.”
Malachi’s smirk widened, proud and a little wicked, "Atta girl.”
Bella stepped closer, her voice low as she poked a finger lightly into the center of his chest, "I’m done biting my tongue, Mal. She keeps acting like she’s some fucking queen bee around here? I’m going to remind her exactly who built MY kingdom brick by brick while she was busy reciting the same tired lines for ten damn years while contributing nothing of substance but hot fucking air.”
His grin softened into something fonder as he tilted his head, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes, "Remind her all you want, mo chroí. Just save a little of that fire for Summer Xxxtreme.”
A dangerous spark lit up Bella’s eyes, "Oh, I have only just begun, and by the time I am somewhat close to being finished, I plan on burning the whole fucking place down.”
Malachi chuckled under his breath, sliding an arm around her shoulders and steering her gently back toward the building, "Jesus, your da would be so proud.”
That caused Bella’s eyes to shine even brighter, “He already messaged me with some critiquing but he loved it.”
Malachi just laughed and held her a little closer, “Of course he did. Come on, you lil pyromaniac. You’re buying dinner.”
Bella shot him a look as they walked, one brow raised, “Fine. But I’m ordering dessert first. I earned it.”
Their laughter echoed off the concrete walls as they disappeared into the glow of the arena lights, leaving only the faint scent of smoke lingering in the cool summer air.
-----
~*~There is ALWAYS Room for Improvement~*~
Back to New York for a bit
Back to New York for a bit
The humid buzz of a late New York afternoon clung to the trees like static, heavy with the promise of summer rain. Out past the house and down a worn gravel path, the old barn sat like a cathedral built for war. The doors were thrown open wide, letting in sunlight and the absolute thinnest of breezes, that did nothing to mask the low, rhythmic sounds of effort inside or the humidity.
Inside, Bella Madison hung suspended from a set of thick ropes, her arms trembling from the strain. Sweat dripped from her brow, soaking into the neckline of her tank top. Her jaw was tight, her focus absolute. A flash of muscle in her arms, a hissed breath, and she hauled herself forward to the next grip: a vertical board with narrow fingerholds carved along the edges.
She clung there, fingers curled like talons, her manicured nails be damned, before launching herself up and grabbing hold of the next obstacle in the sequence: spinning nunchuck handles that dangled from chains. Her body twisted mid-air as she swung and caught them, just barely.
The landing was a stumble. She dropped into a low crouch, panting hard, then pushed herself to stand.
"Again," she muttered to no one in particular, voice hoarse, "Run it again."
The barn, once a place for simple sparring drills and free weight workouts, had been transformed into something bordering on absurd. Metal scaffolding and wood beams stretched across the ceiling in complex patterns. Monkey bars, cargo nets, pegboards, rope climbs, hanging rings. It looked less like a wrestling gym and more like a challenge designed by someone who wanted to break her, before the match ever had a chance.
But this? Bella had designed it herself, because the match at Summer Xxxtreme wasn’t just another wrestling bout. It was Ultimate X, over the pool. Which meant if she wanted to win back the SCW Bombshell Internet Championship, she wasn’t just facing Mercedes Vargas, she was also facing Lilith Locke. And gravity, and pain, and fear, and failure wasn’t an option.
Out in the middle of the barn, Alanah O’Connell stood with a stopwatch in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, brows raised as she watched her sister-in-law reset at the starting line, "You realize this setup looks like it belongs on TV, right?" Alanah asked, a hint of awe and concern laced in her voice, "Like, you could film a whole season of American Ninja Warrior in here."
Bella gave a quick shake of her arms, loosening the lactic acid burn, and shot a look over her shoulder, "Good," she said simply, "That’s the entire point."
She turned her attention back to the course and took off again—leaping, swinging, gripping, hauling herself through the gauntlet of obstacles that mirrored the demands of the Ultimate X match.
“Mercedes isn’t going to out-talk me this time,” she grunted between breaths, "Lilith isn’t going to out-crazy me,” She launched up to a knotted rope that swayed under her weight, wrapping her legs around it to climb, "And no one, ABSOLUTELY no one, is going to out-train me.”
Alanah watched her, shaking her head slowly, part impressed and part unsettled, "You’re going to kill yourself trying to get that title back."
From up in the rafters, where she was now maneuvering across a suspended beam with only her fingertips and a prayer, Bella grinned, "Better me than them.”
Just as she dropped to the mat below with a hard thud, landing in a crouch, Malachi appeared from the far end of the barn, arms folded across his chest, one eyebrow arched, “Alright, love,” he called out, his Irish lilt thick, “So you can monkey-bar your way to freedom. But you think Mercedes or Lilith are just gonna let you climb that X without a fight?”
Bella narrowed her eyes, "I’m counting on them trying.”
Malachi strode over to a set of wooden crates stacked near the far wall, each one stenciled with heavy black letters: 75 LBS. He picked one up, effortlessly balancing it against his shoulder.
“So,” he said, carrying it over to the rig, “What happens when the ropes start shaking? Or when they’re trying to pull you down? Or when you have to kick them off you in mid-climb?”
Bella watched him warily, "Where exactly are you going with this?”
Mal dropped the crate with a thud near the base of the rope climb, “Simple...” He pointed up at the rig, "You don’t just need arm strength. You need to be able to knock two grown-ass women off you, women who weigh as much as these.”
He grabbed a pair of heavy sandbags from a rolling cart, each one marked 135 LBS—about the average weight of Mercedes and Lilith. He rigged them to a pivoting arm attached to the upper scaffold, swinging them so they’d dangle across the path Bella needed to climb.
“New rule,” he said with a wicked grin, "You get past the spinning bars, you climb the rope, you get to the cross-beam… then you have to use your legs to knock these bastards off the path.”
Bella stared at him, incredulous, "Are you kidding me right now?”
Malachi stepped back, arms spread wide, "This is Ultimate X, Bells, over a pool. You think either of those two lunatics aren’t going to grab you mid-air and try to yank you down?”
Bella glared, chest heaving as she wiped sweat from her brow.
Alanah let out a soft groan, "Jesus, you two are insane.”
Mal just smiled, leaning in close enough to drop his voice, "You’re not just going to win this match because you’re faster. You’re gonna win because no matter what they throw at you, you’re still standing...Or hanging. Whatever.”
Bella’s eyes flicked between Mal and the swaying sandbags. Slowly, a grin spread over her flushed face.
“Alright,” she said, tightening her ponytail, bouncing on the balls of her feet, "Bring it the fuck on.”
She leapt back onto the course.
Moments later, the barn echoed with the thud of sandbags being kicked off their pivots, the scrape of chains, and the low, feral laughter of a woman who’d decided she was going to be unstoppable, no matter how heavy the load.
Malachi just stood there, shaking his head, a glint of pride, and maybe a little terror, in his eyes. Meanwhile Alanah knew that they were indeed perfect for one another. He knew exactly who he’d married.
And Summer Xxxtreme wasn’t ready for her.
-----
~*~If Not...Then What’s Next?~*~
Rainy Afternoon
Rainy Afternoon
Rain pattered lightly against the windows of the O’Connell bedroom as Bella zipped the final suitcase closed. The muted grey sky outside cast a soft light across the room, glinting off the metal clasps of the luggage and the array of swimsuits, sundresses, and ring gear still strewn across the bed.
Malachi knelt beside an open duffel bag, carefully rolling up a couple of his T-shirts. He paused, glancing over his shoulder as Bella tried, unsuccessfully, to force a second pair of black boots into her carry-on.
“Love,” he said, voice gentle but edged with amusement, “We’re going on a cruise, not into the bloody Himalayas.”
Bella scowled, half her body weight leaning into the suitcase, "Have you met me?” she shot back, "I’m not showing up on that boat without options.”
Mal chuckled under his breath and got to his feet, wiping his palms on his jeans. He watched her for a moment, the smile fading slightly as the silence stretched between them. The only sound was the faint tick of rain on glass and the rumble of the impending thunderstorm that was about to hit.
“Bells,” he said finally, his tone shifting, “Can I ask you something without you getting mad at me?”
She hesitated mid-shove, glancing up, "I mean I could say no but knowing you.” She smirked for a moment, because she knew what was coming with how he phrased it, “Sure babe, go ahead.”
He crossed the space between them, bracing his hands lightly on her shoulders. His thumbs traced circles against the curve of her collarbone as he searched her face.
“If...” he began, then stopped, exhaling. He tried again, "If things don't go your way at Summer Xxxtreme...if you don’t win the Internet title back, what’s next?”
Bella’s expression didn’t falter right away. But the weight behind her eyes slipped through, carving a fine line between her brows. She swallowed, dropping her gaze to the floor, “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice softer than it had been in weeks, "I mean, I think I do, but...” She shook her head, "The truth is, I know this might be it, when it comes to the Internet Championship, at least. Two reigns, that’s not nothing.”
Mal’s brows drew together, a flash of protectiveness sharpening his features, "That’s not failure either, Bella.”
“I know that Mal,” she murmured, sliding away from him to sit on the edge of the bed. She picked up one of Máire’s tiny stuffed animals, a battered blue elephant, and turned it over in her hands, "I’ve been in SCW for six years. I’ve had my moments. I’ve made my mark. But I also know how this business works.” Her thumb brushed across the plush ear, "They’re always looking for the next big thing. And if I’m not careful, that’s gonna end up being some part-time bitch riding in on a Queen for a Day contract, or Lilith Locke looking to make a name off me.”
She lifted her eyes, fierce again, "And I’ll be damned if that’s how my name goes down in the books. I’ll be damned if Mercedes, of all people, gets to be the reason people say Bella Madison finally gave up.”
Mal sat beside her, resting his forearms on his knees, "Then what are you fighting for, if it’s not just the belt?”
Bella’s lips twisted into a half-smile, "Partially for us and the other part is for myself. My pride & everything I’ve built.” She huffed a humorless laugh, "I want that title back because I still feel in my heart of hearts that it’s mine. But more than that, I want people to remember that you don’t just push me aside. That you don’t count me out because I’ve got a kid, or because I’ve lost a few times. That not one single soul wrote my story for me.” She glanced sideways at him, "I guess, if I lose, maybe it’s time to figure out what’s next. Maybe that’s a new division. Maybe it’s a whole different path. OR maybe, we give Máire that little brother or sister. I don’t know yet.”
Mal reached over, gently plucking the elephant from her hands and tossing it into Máire’s half-packed backpack, "Whatever it is, you’ll figure it out. And I’ll be right there.”
Bella snorted, "Even if it’s me deciding to run off and start a wrestling school in Bali?”
Mal grinned, "I’ll pack my shorts.”
She let out a genuine laugh, leaning in until her forehead pressed against his, "God, you’re such a sap.”
He kissed her lightly, "Yeah. But I’m your sap.”
They sat like that for a moment, wrapped in quiet comfort as the rain continued tapping the windows.
Then Bella pulled back, her eyes shining again with something fierce and bright.
“Come on,” she said, standing abruptly, "Help me figure out how to fit the boots. I’ve got a title to win and a couple of bitches to toss into the pool.”
Mal stood with her, taking the boots and opening up the main suitcase, "Now that’s my girl.”
----
~*~Rules of Engagement: Cleansing with Fire~*~
Outside the O’Connell house, the air hung heavy as though the sky itself was holding its breath. Ominous thunder rolled somewhere distant over the Hudson, and the darkened clouds churned like smoke over the treetops. A cool wind rippled through the grass, rattling the wind chimes that hung beside the porch steps.
Bella Madison sat alone at the top of those steps, elbows braced on her knees, fingers tangled in the ends of her hair. The storm was close. You could taste the electricity on your tongue. She raised her eyes, staring out over the lawn that stretched down toward the woods, her expression carved in steel.
Slowly, she sat upright, rolling her shoulders back. Her voice broke the silence, low, steady, every word measured like the cocking of a gun.
“I hope you’re listening, ladies. Especially one BITCH in particular...” She paused, her lips twisting around the name like it was bitter in her mouth, "Because it’s funny, isn’t it? Mercy, for all your talk about how you’re the standard, the quote-icon-unquote, the woman whose name belongs on the marquee. When it came down to it, you didn’t have the guts to stand in that ring with me and Lilith at Climax Control.”
She curled her hands into fists, eyes burning as the wind lifted strands of her hair around her face.
“But here’s the thing, at Summer Xxxtreme, you don’t get to run. There won’t be shadows for you to hide in, or cameras to play cute for while you keep the championship tucked under your arm like a goddamn purse, or an ample opportunity for Crystal to plant her lips so firmly on your ass that she can smell your farts and know what you had for breakfast and more likely dinner. You wanna be the Internet Champion? Then you’re gonna have to work for it.”
Thunder cracked overhead. Bella didn’t even flinch.
“You’ve been living off your past glories for too long, Mercedes. It’s all ‘Vargas this’ and ‘Vargas that.’ You think people are just supposed to bow down because you’re still collecting a paycheck here. Well, I’m not bowing and I’m sure as hell not leaving my name to be some footnote in your Wikipedia page that I know you take your time updating because you sure as shit don’t do anything else on the internet but retweet about sports that no one gives a FUCK about. That belt you’ve got? The one you parade around like a trophy? That’s mine. You may have beaten me for it, but I built my name on that championship. I fought for it and I bled for it. And I will be absolutely fucked that I am not letting you use it like some cheap prop to remind the world you still matter.”
Her eyes narrowed, dark and dangerous.
“And Mercy, I need you to understand something crystal clear: I don’t give a rats fucking ASS about your records, or your accolades, or how many times you’ve held gold. I don’t even give a fuck that the record still stands that I still OWN your ass. None of that means shit to me when we’re both hanging above that pool, reaching for the same title.”
She leaned forward, teeth gritted.
“And when it comes time to choose between you and me? I’m choosing me every single time.”
Another gust of wind rushed over the porch, carrying the distant scent of rain. Bella dragged in a breath, her shoulders rising and falling as she shifted her focus.
“As for Lilith Locke,” Her tone softened a fraction, but only a fraction, "Lil, you know I like you. Hell, a part of me even respects the balls it took for you to throw your name into this match, you have EARNED this shot. You’re talented. You’re fearless. You’re exactly the kind of chaos that makes this business fun.”
She pressed her lips together, eyes clouded.
“But don’t get it twisted, sis. Just because I like you doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you come into my territory and steal what I’ve worked for. You say you’re hungry? Good. So am I. And there’s only one meal being served at Summer Xxxtreme.”
The sky rumbled again. Bella’s gaze dropped briefly to her hands, then lifted back out to the yard with new resolve.
“This whole thing, this match, is happening in my element. On that Princess Cruise, under the lights, over that pool? Ladies, that’s my home turf. That’s my ring. I signed my contract at Summer Xxxtreme and I’ll be damned if I let either one of you make a name off me and leave me floating face-down while you wave my title around for the cameras.”
She rose from the steps slowly, step by step, until she stood at the edge of the porch. The wind whipped around her, rustling the trees until they seemed to hiss with warning.
“I may have cashed in my rematch clause to get here but that doesn’t mean that I didn’t earn this. And that’s why I’m not leaving Lilith out of this fight. Because I know what it means to be hungry enough to do anything. I know what it’s like to claw your way into matches people said you didn’t belong in.”
Her voice dropped to a ragged whisper, "But I’m not letting either of you take this from me.”
She stepped off the porch and onto the damp grass, walking a slow circle around the house, "You want my championship? You’re gonna have to rip it from my goddamn hands. Because I am willing to burn it all down, everything I’ve built, to protect what’s mine. My name. My legacy. My title. I have come too fucking far to just say fuck it all and NOT expect anything less from me.”
She stopped suddenly. Then, moving with a precision that spoke of long practice, Bella reached into her hoodie pocket and drew out a zippo lighter. She flicked it open, and a tiny tongue of flame sprang up in the dark.
She dropped to one knee and touched the flame to the line of accelerant she’d poured hours before, hidden in the grass around the entire perimeter of the house.
Instantly, a ring of fire blazed to life around the O’Connell property, casting Bella in a flickering, hellish glow. The flames rose higher, crackling, spitting embers into the storm wind. Bella stood tall at the center of the circle, hair blowing wildly around her face, eyes alight with the same fire she’d unleashed.
“Mercy, Lilith and Bella. SCW Bombshell Internet Championship aboard the Princess at Summer Xxxtreme.” She pointed toward the horizon where the lightning flashed, "Come and try me.”
And as thunder split the sky above her, Bella Madison stood alone, defiant and unbreakable, framed by the ring of fire she’d built, daring the storm and her rivals to come any closer.